Category: Heat

We finally had alone time. The kid was gone, the roommate downstairs. I didn’t care what she heard, fuck it. I wanted us, I wanted him.

I don’t remember the beginning, because as Daddy says, I don’t write anymore. This happened days ago and the details fade. But I do remember the orgasms. I remember he took he and made me his again. I remember the heat, the pain and the joining.

He used the damned Hitachi on me. It vibrates and overcomes whatever blocks or distractions my mind throws in front of it. His fingers pumped inside me while the vibrations took me away. It was such a shuddering and strong orgasm. Daddy was pleased.

After he fucked me, we were lying on the bed catching our breath. I don’t recall what started it but he began teasing me again. Then he started the Hitachi again. No, not again!, I thought. But yes, he wanted it and he was going to have it. “What, don’t you want more?” He taunted.

“No, Daddy, no.”

“Daddy’s not here now.” When he is in command of me I know he is Master.

“Master, yes Master.”

“That’s better.” The vibration was turning the tide.

“What are you?” He asked.

“Your slave. Your wife.”

“That’s right, good slave.” He pushed the Hitachi into me harder.

“No, Daddy please!” I squirmed away from it.

“Daddy’s not here. You’re having a problem remembering who I am. I’ve neglected your training.”

“No Master.” It was my fault, not his. But I couldn’t argue, that was not my place and yet how could my error be his? My mind was twisting and the predicament was spinning me. The vibrations continued.

“You’re telling me no?” He wheedled.

“No Daddy. Please Daddy…Master.” Oh I was so jumbled. I stopped talking, it was getting me nowhere fast.

“Ok then…” He pulled the vibe off and I sighed in relief until he put it right back on at the higher speed. “Since you want this over with, this will get it done that much faster.” I heard the evil twinkle in his eyes rather than saw it. The vibrations took me right back into the fray. I was surprised. My traitor of a body was doing exactly what he wanted. Soon I shook with another orgasm.

“You didn’t want to do it but I made you anyway. I am proud of you though, you haven’t given me two orgasms in a long time.” He straddled me and pushed his cock inside me. “You said Daddy when you should have said Master. Now count for me slave.” His hand was poised over my breast. Oh, this was going to hurt.

The first stinging strike to my nipple went straight through my body. It hurt so much. “One Daddy.” I tried to hold it together. I wanted to get away from the pain. He slapped the other nipple. “Two Daddy!” I squirmed and he thrust into me. God, if he would just keep fucking me and stop the strikes I would be in heaven. Another strike. “Three Daddy.” Nipple torture is nothing like anything else. There’s no soft start or warm up, the pain is immediate.

He kept striking and I kept counting. God, I hoped it would stop soon. I’m sure I was gushing around his cock…again with the damned traitorous body, but I wanted the pain to end. “Nine Daddy!” Ten followed quickly after and then he thrust hard and fast until he came deep inside me.

Like this:

We are both in the middle of packing and moving. Life is too much and too busy right now. In quieter moments, I think about how we will be together soon. How we will live together. In those moments I ache for him. I want to kneel for him, I want to honor him and serve him. I want to be his baby girl.

Only during the times he is on my mind do I feel my desire and need. It’s like a faucet that is off but when I turn it on a flood comes out. I ache, I twist and bend with the thoughts I have of serving his desires.

I want to be his plaything again. I want to be his arm candy and his slut. I want to feel his eyes devouring me and his body on mine. I want to be his wanton toy, his sex doll.

Like this:

I have a couple favorite images I've evoked before to describe how I feel with Daddy. Touching him, being fucked by him, immersing myself in the experience of being with him are such hedonistic thrills for me.

When he dominates me and pulls me down into the raw sexual pleasure of our connection I'm like a hog rolling in slop. I want the smell of him on me. I want to rut and grunt while he takes all my body offers him. When we're done I feel sated and languorous in much the same way the hog would feel after a full trough of vittles.

When I've come down from sex with him I'm in a different world. Whether I found subspace or not I've been transported. Every nerve ending is awake. His grazing touch on my skin sends ripples of goose flesh across the canvas of my body.

I am also a shark feeding on chum. I swim through the blood and gore rolling in it to coat myself in the scent. I thrash and eviscerate all control I had to act as a lady. I debase myself in whatever sinful way he desires.

All these are meager ways to describe the feelings and sensations that blanket my body and soul when we connect. Our chemistry is like nothing I've ever experienced before.

Like this:

Last month, when we were together at his place, he pushed me further than he had pushed me in a long time.

That weekend he made me cum four different times. This last one was harsh. He used his Hitachi full force on my clit. Prior to that we had played and played and played. My body was a finely tuned instrument by then. I quickly approached the edge but as typically happens for me, I plateaued.

I rush up to the edge of orgasm, everything fine and then a lull happens and my mind begins to work on me. I want this. I want to cum for him. Cum for Daddy. Don't fail him. You're failing him. Then it's a bloody damned miracle if I cum.

This time though his voice and his words took me out of it. "I'm going to teach you slut. You'll cum for me. Then I'll tie you up with that wand on your clit. You won't be able to escape. I'll go get something to eat and you'll be here with that vibe working you for hours. You can scream and cry and squirm but you'll cum for me over and over."

The thought of him torturing me like that sent me right over the edge. I came hard. I bucked and shook and cried out just like he said I would. Yet still he kept the vibrator pressed hard against my clit and I couldn't take it. The feeling of it pressed against my hypersensitive clit as I came made me lose my shit.

"Please Daddy, no!! Please stop! No Daddy, no more…please no more!" He kept it pressed on my spasming clit and the pain of it made me gasp and cry. Many women can't have their sex touched right after an orgasm, apparently I'm one.

He finally took the vibrator off my clit and my body, which had been clenched in a position completely raised off the bed, could let go. I collapsed and rolled into a ball.

I was so relieved he took the machine off my poor clit. My body kept spasming as I came down from that intense orgasm. I felt languorous and so relaxed. He came up on the bed and curled around me asking me if I was ok. I love where he takes me.

Like this:

I served my Master. I used a frozen phallus and fucked myself for his pleasure. I applied a vibrator as commanded. I touched myself and came hard, so hard.

His command wrapped itself about me. His heat pumped my blood. God, how I needed to feel his control. It felt like the heatwaves of summer in the darkest frigid winter.

I am alive with electric need. I am his whore awaiting his every wicked intention. I will debase myself for the scraps of his attention.

He leaves me tonight with an ultimatum. Call to mind his engorged cock. Feel it filling my mouth, smooth and hard. Know of it stretching my pussy wide as his fingers invade my ass. Draw a ragged breath as his teeth graze upon my nipples and mar my neck.

How can I not? To see the words is to evoke the fire of transfiguration. The moment they left his thought I was marked by them.

My pussy twitches and burns with the girth of him. My mouth salivates as my tongue traces the velvet marble of his cock, the molten alabaster of its relentless head forcing my throat past any humiliating reflex.

I am but his vessel, his marionette. I may not touch, he says. Of course…I do not control the strings. My fingers are held in abeyance. Though my cunt contracts and my nipples cut glass.

My body is upon the altar to be sacrificed at his whim. I am nothing but his instrument. My only fervent wish is to be played.

Like this:

I kneel to him to honor my Master and his control of me. I am here next to my bed. My knees burning. It has been a long hiatus and my body is rebelling. It is my just punishment.

My Master deserves so much more than I currently give him. He is caring and honorable. He is thoughtful of others and keeps a whole list of found-family as part of his care circle.

It is my wish to serve him in every way, every day. So, today I kneel. I picture him in front of me. His fingers pushing my chin up so my gaze is captured in his. His hot breath soon on my neck. His words, oh my god, his words etching carnal sin on my soul.

Today, I kneel, to honor but also to feel him. To know that I am wholly his chattel, his girl, his slave. That I will do as he commands, that I will choose subjugation, that I will debase myself, and that I will be as dirty as he commands. All of this, I do for him.

Like this:

We watched a movie and had lunch. The apartment had every amenity except a couch. I was using Daddy’s big chair. The legs had broken in the move so it was quite a bit lower to the floor but still comfy. He was sitting in a camping chair next to me. A very nice camping chair but still not ideal. The dining room table sans legs was propped on a box and made a serviceable coffee table. I told him I loved that set up so much I wanted to permanently cut the legs shorter.

I took our dishes to the kitchen and when I returned he pointed to the floor in front of him. I sank gracefully to my knees. I put my arms around his waist and held him for a moment.

I looked up to him knowing I was here at his feet at his beckoning. “I’m going to answer a few work emails but first you’re going to suck my cock.” I smiled as he pulled down the front of his pants.

“Do you want to suck my cock slut?”

“Yes Daddy, I love sucking your cock.” I do. There is something so incredible about him allowing me to touch his most sacred part. I want every time I pleasure him to be as amazing as I can make it.

Sure, I could be crass and say, all men want you to suck their cock. What’s so amazing? But why be like that? It serves no one. I love to give him pleasure. I love to have a goal and a challenge. My challenge is to make every flick of the tongue cause a reaction, every deep throat push deeper, every tongue caress hit the sweet spot. Otherwise, why bother? Giving my Dominant pleasure is an honor so I treat it as one.

I was languishing in the feel of him on my tongue. I was tasting the cleanliness of him. Aching for a drop of his seed to taste. This wasn’t a blowjob with a direction. We were both sated. This was cock worship. I could blissfully take my time.

“Hm, you’re so clean.” I said with a little something in my voice.

“Too clean for my slut? You want that man musk, do ya?” He knows me. I smiled with cock in my mouth and pulled out to answer.

“Well, yeah. I love me some man musk. Mm hmm.” I licked him and chuckled. I refocused on my task. I love the girth of him, his cock pushing down my throat, stopping my breath, sucking and working my mouth on him.

Damn, I was getting turned on. I felt the banter fall away and the heat overtake me. I looked up to him with a mouthful of cock, eyes glazed with passion. I was struck by the intensity of his steely blue stare. He was watching me and now he had me captive. My heart jumped in my chest.

He pulled me up and kissed me. The fire between us blazed hot and fierce. I became nothing more than a cinder in his embrace. Our kissing drugged me. I fell into a love-induced trance. His lips trailed down my chin. He gripped my hair pulling my head back to expose my neck. His lips and teeth blazed a line down my throat. I whimpered and tried to pull away. “Stay.” He said, halting my escape. I trust him but the instinct for survival is undeniably animalistic. The fear rolls over me and I become prey.

His lips at my throat, locked together in mutual torment, he said,”Amazing. You are incredible. Three years later and you still have me rock hard and on fire for you.” His teeth dug into my throat.
“Daddy…” I entreated. My pussy was throbbing and yet I was about to hyperventilate with fear. “I want you.”

“Come with me.” He stood and pulled me to my feet. I thought we were headed to the bedroom but he led me to the other room. He opened the door. It was empty and cold except for the spanking bench in the middle.

“You are mine. My prize. Present yourself.” He said. I pulled off my pants and mounted the bench. I knew what was coming. All his toys remained packed in the other room. One hand went to my neck the other my ass. Gripping the hair at my nape, he spanked my ass twice…then four times in quick succession. It was hard, it was fast. The pace matched our pheromone fueled heartbeats.

His fingers pushed into my sex. God, I wanted him. The more he spanked me, the more I would do anything to have him. Damn, I had missed him. After warming my ass and my pussy he propelled me to the bedroom for a sound fucking.